


My Love

by Creatrix



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Death, Imagine if I have to change it to canon divergance, It was a quick job at 11pm, Love, M/M, She really loved Sylas, Sorry if it's no good, Spoilers for Ep 101, The theory that Delilah was Vecna just stuck with me, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 20:39:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11215866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creatrix/pseuds/Creatrix
Summary: Vecna was a man before his life was destroyed.Men aren't immune to love.Sylas was an amazing man.(AU where Vecna had been disguising as Delilah the entire time)





	My Love

Wildmount. It’d been a while.

The streets were more full then the last time he’d been here. People trotted down the cobblestone streets, ponies waited at storefronts. His heart sank slightly at the fact that he hadn’t seen the progression of his hometown. 

But that wouldn’t be an issue anymore. He’d ascended. Death was not an issue any longer.

Kids laughed as they ran by him. He smirked as they pulled on their lapels. Across the path, a horse and carriage parked up against a haberdashery. A man stepped out, in a graceful manner that only made him seem more put together then most rich men. He did not speak; he closed the door behind him, giving a small gesture to the driver.

He had dark hair that was slightly greying at the temples. His cheekbones were high and deep –sharp as a razor. His build was impressive. Muscles lined his body but it wasn’t so bulging that his clothes were straining. He entered the hat store, leaving his carriage and driver to wait.

There was no denying he was attracted to this regal man. With the flow of human traffic, following after the man wasn’t suspicious. The store was warm inside, smelling of pine, washed cotton and mercury. Tables lined the store, metal structures sat upon them with hats of all shapes and colours.

Across the room stood the interesting man. He was stood in front of a full-length mirror with a dark velvet top hat. He took a few tentative steps towards him, plucking a blue bowler hat from a display. “Try this.”

The man’s eyes twitched in the mirror. He had dark brown eyes. “Sure.” Their eye contact through the mirror was cut off when he turned around to come face to fact. His eyes become more rich and real when they rested upon him. “Exchange?” He took the hat from his head and gestured it over.

He handed the blue hat over silently. The mans ruby red lips pulled up into a smirk. Confidence billowed in his chest when he turned back to the mirror. “Do you have a name sir?”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

None of them spoke again. He adjusted the hat on his head, rotating his angular jaw to inspect the hat from all angles. “Good choice.” His voice was low and gravely, causing tremors through his skin.

“Thank you.”

The bell from the front door chimed, which caused both of them to adjust their posture. The man turned back, dark eyes sultry and seemingly enticed. “Sylas.”

A beautiful name for a beautiful man.

“Vecna.”

 

* * *

 

 

The only way for he and Sylas to be around each other without comment was for him to feign being a woman. Delilah Briarwood was a blessing and a curse. Despite being an illusion, she had everything he didn’t. Sylas acted the same wether he was Vecna or Delilah, which irked him.

He once asked if he liked one appearance or the other, and Sylas had said that they were both the same person, just with a different appearance. Still, disguising their love annoyed him immensely. When they get home, the façade dropped immediately.

Sylas wrapped him up in his arms, a besotted smile pressed into his magnificent face. It was hard to imagine someone, even a human, being so in love with him. He’d had followers, he’d been loved and hated, but no one had ever adored him. Sylas could not die. Life would not be worth anything if that love faded to the clutches of a measly thing like death.

The conversation had come up once or twice. “What would I do if you died?” He’d once asked.

“Move on, my dear.” He replied, flipping the page in his book.

“But I love you.”

“I know love, I know.” The fire crackled loudly in the sad silence.

Vecna stood from the loveseat and perched onto the armrest of Sylas’ red wingback armchair. “I could not love another as I love you.”

Sylas sighed at the page, placing a bookmark in and closing it softly. “Of course you can. After you finish grieving, you will love again.” His eyes softened and Vecna’s throat closed up uncomfortably.

“No. That is impossible.” He hissed. Sylas smiled warmly and reached up to wipe away a tear. He hadn’t known tears had fallen down his face. “I could make you live forever. We could be together for a million lifetimes.”

“That is impossible dear.” He wrapped his hand around Vecna’s neck and pulled him closer. “I love you too.” He kissed like they were going to go to bed. It was a sweet little declaration of love and affection.

“If you die I will bring you back.”

 

* * *

 

He told him not to use the fucking sword. 

It was cursed. It was _evil_. He’d said it a hundred times. No amount of protection saved him from his impending death. But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t possible. He had secrets. He knew things others didn’t.

This was not the end.

Delilah Briarwood had worn black for 3 days, a veil covering her grief. Vecna had procured components for a ritual he’d been thinking of since the day he met Sylas. He poured over centuries of tomes and articles, pulling information from his past and testing, testing, testing. The public, the guards, the servants had been suspicious of him. They all suspected something evil was going on in the Briarwood mansion.

Finally, everything had come together. The Dwendalian government had grown worried. Delilah hadn’t left her home. Death magic exude from the walls of the home. The servants were too scared to return. He didn’t care what people thought was going on in their home. He was going to bring his _husband_ back.

It took an hour. One hour. Everything had been placed correctly, he’d chanted over and over, and with a final kiss to Sylas’ cold dead lips, it ended. Nothing happened.

A second passed.

Dread and anger soared through his belly.

Another second passed.

His heart vibrated in his chest.

A whistle broke the tension in the air. Air filled Sylas’ dead lungs, making awful noises. He coughed, blood spurting into his closed fist. “What happened?”

“You fool that sword killed you!” Vecna cried, rushing to Sylas. He laid his hands upon him, searching for imperfections on his body. “You fool.” His voice broke; the sight of his lover moving sending his emotions out of whack. He had never been a stone cold deity, his emotions played into his actions heavily.

“Darling, darling what did you do?” Sylas whispered. His hair was in disarray and his eyes were permanently shocked. Strangely his cold pale skin never changed back to his warm pink skin. “Vecna what happened?”

He sniffed, placing his forehead onto Sylas’ shoulder. “Your stupid sword, ‘Craven Edge’ killed you. I died inside when I couldn’t wake you up that morning. I died Sylas.” They look at one another, confusion and agony floating between the pair. “I bought you back. I need you. I cannot live a life without you. My love. My life.”

“What am I?”

A question not even Vecna could answer properly. This had been the first time he had bought a human back to life. “Undead, I suspect.”

“Undead? As like, a vampire?”

Vecna burrowed his face away. “Perhaps. What does it matter, you are alive in my arms. And you can still use that stupid sword.”

Sylas wrapped his strong arms around the necromancer. “I am not mad. But dear, how will the village react?”

“We need to leave.”

Loud angry knocks from the mansion front doors broke their reunion.

 

* * *

 

Whitestone was lovely. The tree was stupid, and they corrupted that straight away. Only one god was going to rule the lands. Vecna and Sylas built an empire. A small and quiet empire, but it was a paradise for them. With the ridiculous De Rolo’s gone, they got to work. Those humans didn’t even _know_ what they had been sitting upon. 

The ziggurat was a sightly thing. Sylas rested his lips on Vecna’s shoulder as he enchanted the orb. Their plan was exciting. He’d be able to go home. He’d told Sylas stories of Shadowfell, of the city that was built to hold all those who had been pulled from the grips of death.

Sylas found the bodies strange, but with a few explanations, he helped. It was oddly romantic to sear eyeballs and cut of hands together. They’d been attacked once, but with a quick spell on the local stone giants, they came back better and stronger, keeping the townsfolk at bay. Bringing back all the skeletons in the mausoleum and graveyard had been easy work.

Cassandra De Rolo had lived. Oddly enough, Vecna wasn’t angry.

“Why do we keep her in _our_ home? Let us hang her from the Suntree and be done with it.” Sylas had once said as they woke up. It was sunset, and Vecna had been watching Cassandra all day.

“I’ve never had a daughter before.”

“She is _not_ your daughter.”

“I can never give that to you.”

“When did I ask for annoying offspring?”

Vecna rolled his eyes and cuddled into his burly chest. “Fine, but I don’t find her as a threat.” Sylas kissed his hair and rubbed circles into his back. “She’s pretty.”

“We killed her family.”

“She’s young.”

“She will not follow.”

“We will make her a Briarwood.” Vecna kissed his sternum. “Let’s talk to her.” Getting dressed was like tug of war. Clothes will come off, then be torn off, then slowly crawl back on again. They tumble down the hallway, laughing childishly, the illusion of Delilah snapping into place.

Cassandra sat up rigidly at her vanity when the pair walk into her room. It was the evening and the girl’s room was only lit by a few candles. Her eyes flickered from each of them, fear evident in them. “Lord and Lady Briarwood.” She whispered shakily.

“Hello.” Delilah smiled wickedly. She’d never see what was underneath.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Of course not dear. Whom do you take us for?” Delilah scoffed unladylike. “I’m going to take you under my wing.”

She shook in her seat, terrified. “Why.”

“Well, between us ladies, you need someone to show you the path of a successful young woman.” Vecna reached out and placed a finger under her pointed chin. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

It was weird to watch everything he’d build go crashing down again. It was strangely nostalgic. The De Rolo boy had come back with some very powerful friends. Houses burned down, symbols glowed into the sky. “Delilah, what are we going to do?” 

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” Vecna growled at Cassandra. She bounds up the ziggurat 2 steps at a time.

“Dear, calm your mind.” Sylas growled, following behind her obediently. Vax toddled behind like a mindless kitten. “What do we do? The Winters Crest isn’t upon us.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s now or never.”

They get to the top, and just as they try to pry open the doors –they arrive. “Keep them busy.” She growled, moving towards her beloved.

But as they fight, ‘Vox Machina’ become more desperate. He becomes more desperate. Everyone was fighting tooth and nail. And then the druid tears a bright beam of sunlight through the smoke form of Sylas Briarwood. Vecna stopped in his spot, unable to keep his eyes off the horrifying display. It may as well have scorched his heart. A scream ripped from her lungs, he lunged forward, finding anything from his remains. But Sylas was gone, and that stupid sword that killed him in the first place clattered to the ground.

“I broke the world for us!”

They’d talked about Sylas’ death. He was never prepared for it to actually happen. His heart tore in two, his soul shredded into a million pieces. Anger and grief tore through him like lava shooting from a live volcano.

Searing pain sent him into frenzy, only seeing red. He didn’t care if his cover had been blown, if his illusion had faded –tears fell freely as he stormed through the ziggurat doors. The orb. Their mission.

He gets it working.

They kill Delilah. They cannot kill Vecna.

Memories of Sylas plague his mind as he feels himself be put into a new fresh body. Happy and peaceful times. The first time they meet. The kisses. The love. The laughs. The plotting. The adoration.

He’ll be back to finish what he started.


End file.
